


Good Night

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Grab a Tissue Box, Holy Mother of Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:13:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As prompted by askthewhisperingforest- Cecil is dying, Carlos is watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> I cried writing this- angst isn't usually my thing so it probably sounds totally hokey. Sorry.

Night Vale General Hospital had a smell in it, not just the normal hospital smells of sickness and rubbing alcohol and detergent but some underlying reek, like something rotting in the background. Maybe it’s the town, the town rotting around it’s twisted and constantly moving architecture. The town was rotting, decaying from the inside and the outside and other dimensions that Carlos couldn’t properly identify. 

Well, this was untrue.

Cecil was rotting from the inside.

He lay on a pristine hospital bed, too tall and too thin and too bony and too weak and too lethargic and too quiet. Monitors beeped feebly around Cecil in the tune of his heartbeat. Each breath was pulled in harshly and slowly, like breathing through a straw. The tattoos on Cecil’s hands hardly moved at all, sagging with his too loose skin covering cold hands that sucked the warmth off of Carlos’ as he grasped one tight. 

Two days ago he’d been fine.

Two days ago he’d been bright and cheery, his smooth voice pouring out on the radio and discussing the absurdities of Night Vale as if they were normal, because for him they were. He cooed and gushed about the date he and Carlos had the night earlier, although much to Carlos’ appreciation he’d left out the part where they spent the night, the part where Cecil raked his fingers down Carlos’ back and left marks that bled and left marks on his neck and thighs and those marks were still there, still fading and aching if Carlos prodded them in just the wrong way. Two days ago he’d been perfect.

That’s the funny thing about liver failure- one moment it’s a little nausea, the next moment… well…

What was the worst was that Carlos wanted to fix him so badly. He wanted to get at his lab, he wanted to make calls to see if there was any way he could get Cecil a liver transplant and fast, he wanted to grow Cecil a liver out of a petri dish he wanted to rip out his own goddamn liver and give it to the man, the man that somehow managed to crawl under Carlos’ skin and into his heart and make a bloody, gory nest that hurt every time he sighed and sucked in another breath on a hospital bed, sick and dying. But Carlos couldn’t because no one knew why Cecil’s liver suddenly decided to start dying it just did. there was no virus or bacteria, no hepatitis and no cirrhosis. Just a decaying blog where Cecil’s liver should be.

"Carlos…" Cecil’s voice was weak but still smooth and gorgeous. "Perfect Carlos shouldn’t you be working?"

"Can’t," Carlos rasped in response, smoothing his thumb over Cecil’s yellowed knuckles gently. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t focus on anything but Cecil. He even invested in a bloodstone and started praying to it, even though it was sick and unscientific and just feeding into the disgusting town, the horrible disgusting town. Strange miracles happened in Night Vale each day- why couldn’t one happen to Cecil? Why couldn’t Cecil’s liver grow back? Why? It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair at all. None of it was fair. It made Carlos want to just bomb the whole town.

"But Carlos… you’ve got to save the town," Cecil whispered , squeezing Carlos’ hand tightly. "You can’t do that if you’re here with me,"

"I don’t want to save the town. I want to save you," Carlos replied. Cecil chuckled, and started coughing painfully.

"Carlos, beautiful sweet Carlos," he shook his head. "You’re not going to save me. Just let me go,"

"No." Carlos shook his head rapidly, his eyes getting misty and his throat constricting to a useless lump of soft meat. 

"We all die someday Carlos," Cecil pointed out. "Why not today?"

"Because I don’t want you to die. I want you to stay, I want you to live, I want… I want to stay here with you," Carlos’ voice cracked in the middle of it and tears began spilling down his face.

"Oh Carlos don’t cry for me," Cecil chided gently, slowly reaching up and wiping off a tear. His hands were cold, so cold."It’s time for me to finish this broadcast now, you know."

"No no no," Carlos groaned lowly, shaking his head. "No Cecil no don’t you dare-"

"Good night Night Vale," Cecil whispered, closing his eyes. The cheery blips that indicated his heartbeat slowed and turned into one long, grating drone, ugly and harsh. 

"He didn’t… he didn’t finish it," Carlos whispered dumbly before he broke down, sobbing loudly. "He didn’t even… say… goodnight,"


End file.
